


Safe

by sherlockian4evr



Series: The Dark and the Light [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes, M/M, Nightmares, PTSD Sherlock, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective John, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 14:37:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11465658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: Sherlock has a nightmare about when he was captive inEndureand John has to comfort him with lots of cuddles afterwards.Beta read bySherlock1110.





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sherlock1110](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/gifts).



Sherlock became aware of the darkness around him all at once. It was thick and oppressive and felt like it was seeping into his pores. He sat up and scrambled backwards, his feet barely finding purchase, until he came up short in a corner. He couldn't be here, not back here, trapped in his Mind Palace. The last thing he remembered, he had been with John at Baker Street. This place had been as much of a prison as a refuge to his mind during his abduction and mistreatment. Here, he was completely alone, unable to be harmed, unable to be comforted. Sherlock cried out in horror at the possibility his mind had thrown him back in his self made sanctuary/prison.

The air felt cold and Sherlock started shivering. He tried to call out to John, but he couldn't find his voice. Soon, he felt his chest tighten and it became hard to breathe. He had to find his way out of the dark room, his way back to the doctor in the real world. Slowly, the detective moved from his corner in search of the door. There had to be a door, there had been one there when he had been trapped before. John had been the one to give him the courage to find and open it.

Sherlock had only moved a few feet when hot fingers closed around his ankle in a painful grip. He kicked out, trying to dislodge the hand that gripped him to no avail. The hot grip turned cold, the flesh of fingers turned bony. Sherlock's heart pounded in his chest even as he tried to claw his way forward, but the floor was too slick and he couldn't get a grip. As he was pulled backwards by the skeletal hand, he screamed, panicking. More such skeletal hands grasped at him from every direction and he was lifted off the floor.

The next thing the detective knew, he was chained down to a table, surrounded by laughing men. The bright light in the room hurt his eyes and he ached everywhere. Rough, calloused hands gripped his arse and spread his cheeks, causing his already abused flesh to ache. He cried out in pain and despair, only to have one of the men shove a dirty rag in his mouth to shut him up. He knew what would happen next. He'd been used too many times, in too many ways without care for his discomfort or humiliation. In fact, the men around him revelled in causing him as much misery as he could.

Sherlock's eyes flew open as he tried to scream. He was huddled against the headboard of their bed in 221B. Nothing at all made sense. There was a buzzing in his ears and everything seemed hazy. It was as if he couldn't connect to the world around him.

Nearby, John sat upright on his side of the bed, his face drawn with worry. Sherlock's cry had woke him as had his thrashing and subsequent movement towards the head of the bed. As badly as he wanted to take the detective in his arms, he knew better than to risk it in Sherlock's current mental state. "Sherlock!" John called out, trying to get the detective's attention, "You're safe. You're at Baker Street with me. John." He thought he had managed to keep his own worry and fear from his voice. The last thing Sherlock needed was for the doctor to lose it.

Sherlock blinked several times as John's words slowly penetrated the fog and panic that filled his mind and brought him back to reality. He turned his head and looked at the doctor, then gave an enormous shudder. "John," he said, brokenly. His tense musces went lax and he collapsed into a heap on the bed, a great sob escaping him.

That served as John's cue. The doctor moved across the bed slowly and, when there was no resistance, took Sherlock in his arms. "Sh, sh. It's alright. I've got you." John held the detective in a gentle embrace, rocking him. He rubbed circles on Sherlock's back in a soothing manner and breathed calming words into his ear. They stayed that way for several long minutes as Sherlock shook and tears rolled silently down his face. Finally, the detective took a deep shuddering breath and pulled away from John. He wouldn't look at the doctor, but kept his eyes downcast. John cupped his cheek tenderly. "You know you don't have to be ashamed. We've talked about this before. Neither of us have to be ashamed of our dreams or the dark things that stalk us there. We don't choose our dreams and we didn't choose the things that happened to us."

Sherlock looked up at John, finally, his eyes red rimmed, and nodded. "I know," he whispered. "It's just so hard."

Wiping the tears from Sherlock's cheeks, the doctor leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. "I know." He paused for a moment, then asked, "Do you want to get up or try to sleep?"

Sherlock knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, but he also knew John would get up if he did and that was unacceptable. "I... Would you hold me?" the detective asked, feeling foolish.

"Anything you want. You know that."

The two men lay back down, John spooning Sherlock. The doctor wrapped his arm around Sherlock's waist and rested his head against his shoulder. "You never have to worry or be afraid, not as long as I am here," John promised. "I'll keep you safe. If anyone ever tries to hurt you, I'll dissect them and hide their parts all across London." He kissed Sherlock's shoulder. "No one would ever find the tiniest piece of them."

"Isn't that a bit not good?" Sherlock asked.

"More than a bit."

It made the detective feel warm inside, loved. His John was perfect and knew how to make him feel safe.

"You're so brave, Sherlock. You've come so far." John kissed his shoulder again. "Don't let a dream discourage you. Think of what you've accomplished."

Sherlock rolled over in John's arms and looked at the doctor's face, so full of love and admiration. "You mean this?" He brought their lips together in a kiss, pushing the nightmare from his mind. When they broke apart, he nearly cried from the joy of it, being held in John's arms. There had been other times when they had made sweet love in one another's arms and there would be again, but right now, Sherlock was where he needed to be, loved and secure with no demands placed on him. Safe under the watchful eye of John Watson.

**Author's Note:**

> I read and treasure every single comment I receive, but I'm totally crap at responding to them. Please know that they fuel me. Thank you in advance.
> 
> If you want to podfic or translate this or create a drawing based on it, go for it. Just please let me know and link back to my fic.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://shippingintothenight.tumblr.com) or @sherlockian4evr on Twitter.


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